


not stand back and stare in fear

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mythical Creatures, F/F, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Murder, Selkies, Sexual Content, Sirens, its very vague though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:59:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6263263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When night falls, Maria takes the biggest blanket from Eliza’s bed and wraps it around herself. She walks out onto the patio that hangs over the ground, <i>so close</i> to the beach and the ocean. Sometimes Eliza sits next to her with her own blanket, breathing in the scent of salt and pure <i>ocean.</i> Eliza is more than content to waste the night like this with Maria pressed comfortingly against her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not stand back and stare in fear

**Author's Note:**

> well ah i love the shit out of selkies and just mermaid-esque ladies so heres This Shit  
> the song used in the title is sea castle by purity ring

It starts when Eliza finds the ratty fur coat on the beach. It’s hard with saltwater, smells rank of seaweed and seathings, but she finds herself taking it up anyway. It looks like it should weigh pounds, pure weight from water and fur, but it doesn’t. It _doesn’t_.

It’s warm in her hands, and it’s _light_. She almost puts it round her shoulders, but it’s someone else’s, it’s dark out, and it smells horrible.

When she gets home, she shoves it into the washing machine, too far in a sleepy state of mind to even turn the thing on.

When she wakes up, there is a woman.

Eliza stares at her for a long time, taking in her bare body, the soft curves of her belly and chest.

And then –

“Where’s my _coat?_ ” the newcomer hisses, kneeling on Eliza’s bed and shoving her face into Eliza’s personal space. It’s hard to tear her gaze away from this woman’s dangling chest. But she does, because Eliza isn’t _rude_.

“I have it,” she whispers, and the woman nods. She says nothing. Eliza makes no offer to retrieve it.

“I’m Maria,” she says eventually, turning away from Eliza. Even so, Eliza still stares, stares at the gentle curve of Maria’s spine, the kinkycurly mess of hair atop her head, dry and brittle-looking from salt.

“Eliza,” Eliza says, snickering to herself at how odd it sounds to say her own name – and then she wakes up. Eliza’s brain goes from sleepy to HD-sharp alertness in seconds, jerking back out of her own bed to get _away_ from this woman. She’s gorgeous, almost painfully so, but Eliza can’t let herself stay concentrated on her caramel skin and how it’s the slightest bit tinted red, or how her hair sways together when she moves, or how her body is _chubby_ , rounded in her breasts, her thighs, her –

Somehow, Eliza gets lost anyway, standing in front of her open window – _when could that have happened_ , she thinks wryly – and now Maria is the one staring. Her eyes are luminescent, almost yellow, almost like a _cat’s_. It’s strange and alluring, how they dig into Eliza’s very core.

_She is so glad she lives alone._

* * *

 

Eliza abstains from doing laundry for weeks. She is cornered in her wardrobe to old nightgowns she now uses for daywear as well as the one tight red dress of hers Maria has taken to wearing. It shows no signs of wear or filth, though Maria herself has been visiting the beach everyday with Eliza. Nothing has been able to get washed except for the few times Eliza has wandered into the city and gone to a Laundromat. So the washing machine stays closed and secluded, Maria’s fur tucked safely inside.

When night falls, Maria takes the biggest blanket from Eliza’s bed and wraps it around herself. She walks out onto the patio that hangs over the ground, jutting out from her bedroom, _so close_ to the beach and the ocean. Sometimes Eliza sits next to her with her own blanket, breathing in the scent of salt and pure _ocean_. Eliza is more than content to waste the night like this with Maria pressed comfortingly against her, but –

Maria has other plans, it seems.

She turns to Eliza, yellow eyes gleaming and full of hope. Without waiting for a single word, the selkie dives in like she does into water, pressing her lips against Eliza’s with reckless abandon. Eliza somehow manages to move her lips against hers, which is a feat to herself considering how her brain has short-circuited. And then Maria is _moving_ , lips traveling with her body; she sits in Eliza’s lap while she mouths at the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Eliza can do nothing but make gasps of pleasure and confirmation.

Maria’s thin, nimble hand makes its way underneath Eliza’s dress, rubbing hard against her core. Eliza moans into her hair, too overwhelmed with how suddenly this is happening to even _care_ about what pathetic noises she’s making – with the way Maria’s kissing her neck, sharp teeth nibbling against her pale skin, nothing else even matters.

She comes with a shuddering breath but Maria’s hand is still moving, fingers deftly circling her clit. It takes Eliza pushing her away for her to _stop_. Eliza’s gasping, thighs shaking with overstimulation. Maria is looking at her with some sort of awe before taking her sticky fingers and popping them into her mouth. Eliza groans.

And then Maria stands, gathers her blanket around herself, and disappears inside.

* * *

 

When Eliza wakes, she’s still outside. The cold, thick air bites at her bare skin. Her dress is still pushed up her thighs, blanket tangled around her legs. A quick glance around tells her that Maria is in her bed.

She’s draped over the side that it looks like she simply collapsed onto the mattress. It’s… cute, Eliza thinks, but it’s a lot _less_ cute when Eliza’s still outside, her thighs sticking to the cold metal of the patio.

So she gets up, leaving her dew-wet blanket behind, and moves Maria closer to the middle of the bed. Eliza curls in close, throwing an arm around her and taking her warmth, or what little she has. Out of the water, Maria has no need for constant warmth, so despite her complaints, her body keeps her core temperature low. Still, she is warm enough to Eliza.

That’s all she can ask for.

* * *

Once on the beach, Maria is overtaken. Eliza’s just glad the strip of sand she always ends up at is private and no one goes very often – it’s _small_ , with cliffs jutting from both sides, hardly enough room to park a car in between.

So when Maria rids herself of her dress, Eliza can only watch as she rushes into the icy water. Once knee deep, she looks around, _waiting_ – and then she seems to remember who is watching. She turns her head so fast Eliza can almost hear her neck crack.

Their eyes meet.

Maria’s skin seems to be glowing. A soft red light forms in her chest, moving with the _bumpbumpbumps_ of her heart. Her eyes are – her _eyes_. They’re piercing, yellowtinged, hardandsoft and predatoryandgentle at the same time. The saltwater shines in her hair and she looks _ethereal_ , a goddess come down from the sky to make Eliza fall in love with her and then –

She doesn’t want to think of what may happen.

But with the minute movement of Maria’s hand, Eliza is undoing the bow round her waist and stepping out of her dress, moving along the beach until the bittercold ocean laps at her toes. But it’s not cold, not anymore.

It feels bloodily warm, but she has no time to process this before Maria is _there_ , taking her wrist and dragging her further further further into bloodwarm water.

* * *

 

Eliza wakes on the beach alone. There is salt and sand in her hair and her skin feels tight, seawater in her pores.

But _there_ –

Eliza has to cover her eyes with her hand to see Maria, trying to offset the sun in her eyes. Maria seems bulkier than before, which Eliza takes to be her blanket wrapped round her shoulders. When she sits up, the scent of rotten seaweed is thicker than before.

Then she sees.

_Maria has her coat._

Its matted brownred fur has been transformed to something neater, thicker, but there’s still seaweed hanging off it – and Maria looks absolutely wild. Her hair is its kinkycurly mess but somehow it’s even _messier_ , brittle and dry from the saltwater as it was the first time Eliza saw her. She moves like she’s already in water, maneuvering her body in graceful arcs to hover right over Eliza. Her presence no longer feels like _safety_ ; it’s overwhelming and feels like danger. Her gut feeling is only confirmed when Maria’s fingernails dig into her wrist, hardhardhard and drawing blood, bloodwarm creeping down her arm and then and then and _then_

Maria is taking her, slogging her by her arm, knifesharp nails pulling her skin _up_ and _back_. It hurts hurts hurts but Eliza _lets_ her, lets the siren – selkie – _goddess_ – lead her into water _burninghot_ , lets her kiss her until her head is underwater and her feet no longer touch the sand, lets her whisper “ _stay stay stay_ ” into her mouth until she no longer feels the water around her.

Until what’s left of her only belongs to Maria.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to contact me on tumblr: miomind.tumblr.com  
> comments + kudos are very appreciated!!!


End file.
